


Softcore

by Emphysematous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual Thramsay, Fisting, M/M, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emphysematous/pseuds/Emphysematous
Summary: The first time Theon is fisted.Super quick PWP - unproofedSet in LelithSugar's Consensual!Thramsay canon divergence (R & T are perverts in love with a fully consensual BDSM relationship)





	Softcore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LelithSugar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelithSugar/gifts).



> This piece is part of LelithSugar's Consensual!Thramsay AU. The main concepts are all hers and she is lovely for letting me hijack them. I really recommend reading some of hers first so you get a feel for their dynamic.
> 
> Essentially, it's spun off from the canon at the start of Season Three of the show, with Theon captured at the Dreadfort. But in this version, Theon is a shameless masochistic whore, Ramsay is a sadist who revels in his terrifying reputation; they’re in a happy, consensual (albeit very twisted, BDSM-themed) relationship, with the torture and abuse mostly used as a cover-up to maintain their public personas and allow them to live out their perverted fantasies to their hearts’ content. Theon is (mostly) whole, with the whole cutting-bits-off thing simply the result of a rumour gone wild. He does have a lot of very interesting scars, though.

Theon’s just reaching the light-headed stage of lack of breath, with his head held face-down into the mattress, when Ramsay spends - hard - inside him. There are a few more lacklustre thrusts and then the hands wound into Theon’s hair are walked up his shoulders, back and hips as Ramsay pushes himself up and out of his body. Theon gasps a breath as satisfying and perfect as any orgasm while Ramsay wipes his cock on Theon’s thigh and flops down on his back to collapse next to him. Both of them pant in near-unison for a while. 

“Feel better?” Theon asks, when he’s recovered enough air and wit to say anything. He rests his chin on his hands and flexes his body, feeling mild aches where fresh bruises will be tomorrow.

Ramsay stretches luxuriously like a cat. “Much.”

“What got you so… agitated?” Theon asks. Ramsay had stormed into his - their - room in a foul mood and had said only the single, barked word ‘strip’ before bending him over the foot of the bed, smearing a handful of oil over his arsehole and pushing himself brutally in. If Theon hadn’t still been loose from the morning, he suspected he might have torn. The fucking had rutted him onto and up the bed until by the end he was bracing himself against the headboard to keep in place. 

Ramsay’s lip curls, “Roose,” he grunts, tersely, and rolls over to his side to brush Theon’s hair away from his eyes. Theon shrugs sympathetically and lets out a startled yelp as he’s pulled across the bed to be held close. Ramsay wraps an arm around his chest and a thigh over his legs and cuddles him, nuzzling between his shoulderblades. He strokes a hand down Theon’s body, squeezing at his arse. 

“Haven’t had enough it it yet, eh?” Theon grins over his shoulder, wiggling his backside against Ramsay’s belly.

“Don’t think it’s possible to have enough of it,” Ramsay replies, entirely honestly. He nudges Theon’s thigh forward and trails his fingers back up his leg to where his skin gets slippery with oil and sweat and seed, a couple of finger-widths from the curve of his buttock. He grabs a handful of arsecheek and lets his fingers slide up towards Theon’s hole. Theon shifts his hips and two of Ramsay’s fingers push up inside him. 

Theon lets out a tiny appreciative moan when Ramsay automatically curves his fingers to rub at the knot of flesh inside him. Ramsay twists his hand, exploring all of Theon’s smooth walls, then goes back to where he had started, rubbing rhythmic circles.

“Did you come?” he asks as an afterthought, after a while of simply enjoying the heat and  wetness. 

“Mmn, it doesn’t matter. I enjoyed it.” Theon rocks his hips, guiding Ramsay to where he wants to be touched. He glances over his shoulder at Ramsay’s expression of fascination. “You’re getting quite obsessed with my arse these days…” This post-fuck fingering has become almost a ritual over the last couple of weeks, with Ramsay becoming ever more engrossed in whatever he’s doing back there. Theon has no complaints; it feels incredibly good and usually has a decent pay-off for him at the end. But he has to admit he’s curious about what keeps drawing Ramsay back to it. 

Ramsay pulls his fingers out and watches Theon’s hole twitch in rhythmic contractions and shrink closed. “You would be too, if you could see it from where I am.” He tips more oil into his hand and pushes his middle and ring fingers back into Theon’s body with just the slightest twinge of clenching to slow him down. He rocks his hand back and forth, pulling at the muscles, probing at the softness and heat of his insides. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Theon asks with a smirk and a shake of his hips for good measure. 

Ramsay brings his fingers back almost all the way, then works them back in, along with his index finger. Theon lets out a tiny ‘oh’ and his eyes flutter closed. He exhales and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. Ramsay licks his lips. “ _ Immensely _ .” He rotates his wrist again and effortlessly circles his fingers over Theon’s knotted flesh again, making him let out a noise that sounded like a mixture of whine and sob. Ramsay chuckles. 

“Fuck you,” Theon grumbles through a grin, “you have half your hand up my arse, you don’t get to laugh at any noises I make.” 

“But you sound. So. Very. Pretty.” Ramsay punctuates his words with matched kisses to Theon’s ribs and strokes of his fingers inside him. Theon mewls again and then swears at him. “Sorry, lovely.” Ramsay kisses him again and goes back to his purposeful exploring of Theon’s insides, pulling to test the muscle’s strength, flexing and spreading his fingers.  He glances at Theon’s face - small smile, eyes gently closed - and rocks his hand to work his little finger in, tucking it underneath the other three. He gets to the second knuckle before Theon starts clenching around his hand. “You okay?”

Theon wriggles, hugging his knee to give Ramsay more access. “It’s… it’s uncomfortable. Not painful. Just odd.” Ramsay holds still while Theon flexes his body, getting used to this new sensation. “Is… is that your whole hand?”

Incredibly slowly, Ramsay starts to rock and flex his hand, encouraging Theon’s body to relax. He twists and curves his fingers to knuckle at Theon’s sweetspot. “Not quite. Do you want to try?” Theon moans and actually rocks his hips harder onto those fingers. With tiny pushes, Ramsay is in up to the base of his thumb. He stares down at his hand, utterly fascinated by how it disappears into Theon’s pale body. Theon is still rocking his hips, rubbing Ramsay’s hand against the good places inside himself. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Theon barks a tentative laugh. “I… I don’t know. Is it even possible?” His eyes screw up as Ramsay pulls his hand back a couple of inches, changes angle and works it back in. There’s not nearly as much resistance the second time. His lip curls into a smile watching Theon’s body wrap around him. He clenches his fist a little, increasing the width of his hand.

“Might be...” he’s fascinated, contemplative. He pulls his hand out and in again, rocking his knuckles exactly where Theon wants them. “How does it feel?”

“Full. Stretched.” Theon clenches his muscles again. “Good. Uncomfortable, but also… really really good.” He’s blushing and he hides his face in the pillow. Ramsay laughs at him.

“Don’t hide!” he twists his hand slightly, wiggling for more room. “I want to see your face. Let me look at you.” He pushes himself up onto his elbow and grunts as he tries to get his knees underneath his body while keeping his right hand as still as possible. Theon’s lying on his right side, with his upper leg drawn up tight to his chest. As Ramsay moves about, he rolls his shoulders back until they’re almost flat on the bed and cranes his neck to see what Ramsay’s doing. Muscles in his neck and chest ache their complaints at the positioning. 

“Fuck, Ram, if we’re doing this, would you pass me a pillow?” He gestures behind his head. Ramsay glances about and leans back as far as he can without pulling his hand out of Theon’s arse. He manages to hook the seam of a pillow between two fingers and coax it close enough to grab. Theon starts to giggle.

“What?” Ramsay tosses the pillow at him without looking - he’s staring at his hand. Fascinated by the way he can feel Theon’s laugh from inside his body. 

Theon shoves the pillow under his shoulder and wiggles a bit to make himself comfortable. “Just you, straining to reach because you’re so determined to keep my arsehole as open as possible.” He giggles again. “Fucking hell, Ram, we do some bloody ridiculousness sometimes.” 

His smile is infectious and Ramsay grins at him. “Would you have it any other way?” He flexes his hand again and smirks in satisfaction as Theon lets out a surprisingly soft moan.

Theon’s eyes close as he focuses only on the how Ramsay’s movements feel. “Never.” 

“Good.” Ramsay carries on kneading at Theon’s insides, his face a mixture of intense concentration and utter fascination by how Theon’s body responds; tensing and relaxing into his touches. He gropes about in the bedding for the oil and clumsily opens the bottle left-handed to spill it liberally over his thumb and the rest of his hand. With a querying glance at Theon’s face, he withdraws his hand to the second knuckles of his fingers, gently tucks his thumb into the hollow of the crescent they form and with tiny rocks, he slowly pushes back inside. 

Progress is fairly easy up to the third knuckles; but where his fingers join his hand he reaches resistance. Theon's still softly moaning his enjoyment, but a slight grimace appears on his face; it's starting to hurt. Ramsay eases up on trying to get in and twists his wrist a little to rub the side of his little finger where Theon needs it. “You’re such a good boy…” he croons encouragingly, stroking down Theon’s back with his free hand. 

“I’m not doing anything!” Theon barks out between quick breaths. He opens his eyes and takes in the sight of Ramsay licking his lips, eagerly watching his progress. Theon moans again and rocks his hips down onto Ramsay’s hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ram, this is so much.”

“Too much?” Ramsay pulls his hand back, anxiously gripping Theon’s hip. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His voice is high and tight. 

Theon whines as the fullness leaves him. “No, no!” He wriggles, trying to chase Ramsay’s hand. “Not ‘too’ much. Just ‘so’ much. It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t stop!” He twists on the bed, corkscrewing over to his other side. Ramsay is sat cross legged on the bed, holding his oil-smeared hand by the wrist. He looks pale. “Ram?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ramsay mutters, staring down at his hands.

Theon can’t suppress the laughter that bursts out. “You’re worried about  _ hurting _ me?” He flops onto his belly and crawls across the bed to take Ramsay by the hand. “You, Roose Bolton’s infamous natural son, are afraid of hurting me, the turncoat hostage of Winterfell?” He squeezes, kisses Ramsay’s knuckles. “After everything you’ve done to me while I’ve been here, you start fretting about hurting me  _ now _ ?” he gestures at the map of scars and marks over his body, with an incredulous snort.

Ramsay manages a weak smile. “I don’t want to… to  _ damage _ you.” He pulls Theon bodily across the bed and gathers him into an awkward hug. 

Theon lets himself be held, running the pad of his thumb over Ramsay’s wrist in what he hopes is a soothing way. “I won’t let you injure me, Ram. I know my words. I can tell you when it’s too much.” He shifts a little. “But right now, you really need to keep fucking me because I am dripping with oil and I  _ need _ to get off.”

Ramsay huffs a laugh. “Was if feeling good, little whore?” He ruffles Theon’s hair fondly with his clean hand. 

“You have no idea…” Theon rolls his eyes in remembered pleasure. “Come on, you don’t have to do the same thing but I need to come and you’re not stopping now.” He rolls himself out of Ramsay’s lap and scampers around the bed on his knees, gathering pillows and furs into a heap. Then drapes himself over them, hips raised obscenely in the air. 

There’s a long moment of nothing. 

Theon growls. “Ram!” he snaps with as much authority as he can muster whilst on all fours with oil dripping copiously from his arsehole. “Come here and fuck me!” He wiggles his arse invitingly. 

Ramsay sighs as if being asked to perform some menial chore and pushes himself to his knees to crawl over and sit at Theon’s left hip. “You utter slut, Thee…” There’s a gloop as he pours more oil over his hand. Theon glances over his shoulder just as Ramsay pulls apart his arsecheeks and sinks his hand into him up to the second knuckle. Theon hisses in surprise, but pushes back, eagerly taking as much as Ramsay’s giving. “You okay?” Ramsay asks, flexing his fingers.

“So okay.” Theon nods, clutching a handful of furs. He spreads his legs wider. “Can you do it… down? Forward?” Ramsay adjusts his angle, twisting his wrist further round. “Yessssss…” Theon moans, his chest flopping down onto the bedding so he can focus on the feelings in his backside. 

With gentle, rhythmic pulses, Ramsay works the bulk of his hand further and further in, until he’s pushed past the third knuckles of his fingers, with only the broad part of his hand where his thumb joins his palm to go. Theon rocks back and forth with his movements, rutting his cock into the pillows. Ramsay’s hard again too and would absolutely have been stroking himself if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with the incredible feeling of Theon’s tight heat swallowing his hand. 

“Fuck, Ram…” Theon moans, completely beyond caring about how desperate he’s being. How  _ needy _ . “I’m going to come, just don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…” He’s almost sobbing. 

Obviously, Ramsay stops and withdraws to just his fingertips.

“Basssstaaaard…” Theon hisses, shooting him a look of pure venom and lust. Ramsay gives him a shrug that’s almost apologetic.  _ Come on, love, what did you expect? _ He flexes his fingers over Theon’s knot of flesh to make up for it. Theon cries out again. “Please let me come, Ram. Please!”

“Shush now,” Ramsay murmurs softly, “not just yet, squidling. Not yet.” He stills his hand, waiting for Theon to cool down a little. “Just hold on for me a little more…” With his free hand, Ramsay strokes at Theon’s arm and side. Theon whines his frustration, but his humping slows and finally stops. “Good boy.”

Firmly, Ramsay pushes his hand back in, going right up to the point he’d reached before, with the joint of his thumb pressing hard against Theon’s muscles and his fingers trapped tight inside him. Theon inhales sharply and lets out a very undignified squeak that normally would have had Ramsay laughing out loud at him, but Ramsay is far too distracted with nudging the back of his hand further and further inside Theon’s body to care about any noises of pleasure. “Just a little more, Thee, just… a… little…” 

The base of his thumb breaches Theon’s tightness and suddenly his hand rushes forward, sucked into Theon’s body up to the wrist. They both cry out loud, Ramsay in alarm, Theon in shocked pleasure. “What the fuck was that!” Theon gasps out, flexing his arse tight against Ramsay’s wrist. 

“That’s… That’s my whole fucking hand, love.” Ramsay is spellbound, completely in awe of the sight of his arm disappearing up into Theon’s backside. 

“What?” Theon squirms, trying to look at his own behind over his shoulder. “No way. What?” 

“Here,” Ramsay takes his arm and guides his hand back so that he can feel the thickness of his wrist coming out of his body. 

Theon feels around, still not entirely believing him.“Drowned fuck…” he mumbles. “That’s fucking incredible.

“You’re telling me!” Ramsay snorts. He flexes his hand a little, moving it about. “How does it feel?” 

Theon arches his back, rubbing himself against Ramsay’s fist. “Full. Big. Amazing. Fuck.” He descends into unintelligible mumbling.

“Good?” Ramsay just wants to be  _ certain _ . Theon nods frantically; beyond words. Tentatively, Ramsay pulls back until he feels the resistance of grip at the base of his hand. Theon moans out, grabbing the pillow under his chest close to him. Taking care to move slowly, Ramsay begins a slow fucking rhythm, pushing his fist back and forth inside Theon’s arse. Every stroke in, he angles down to rub at Theon’s knotted flesh, every draw out, he pulls against his ring of muscle. In very short order, Theon has dissolved into a whining, moaning, rutting puddle of want and need. 

“Please, please, please, Ram!” He begs - though what he’s begging for is never specified. This is another thing Ramsay would usually have stopped to rectify, but right now the sight of him gasping and pleading to have more of Ramsay inside him is more than enough to satisfy him. Somehow, Theon’s got one arm underneath him, presumably to stroke himself, and Ramsay really cannot blame him in the slightest.

It’s only by the familiar shuddering of his body, that Ramsay realises that Theon’s about to come, or has come, or is coming. Whichever it is, he’s gone from thrusting and moaning, to near-silent stillness - bar the frantic panting of his breath. He’s done. 

“You okay, Thee?” Ramsay squeezes his shoulder twice and Theon grunts an affirmative, nodding his head and flapping a hand twice on the bed. Two taps. Yes yes. Relieved, Ramsay ruffles his sweaty hair. “I’m gonna pull it out now, okay?” Another nod. Another two taps. 

Frowning slightly - he’s not really sure how to approach this - Ramsay braces one hand against Theon’s backside and gently pulls back. Theon whines a little, but it’s easier getting out than it had been going in and once he’s pulled past the broad part of his hand the rest just slides out with ease. Theon groans a little and Ramsay stares, absolutely amazed, as his arsehole flutters and flexes. In just a few seconds, it tightens from gaping wide to virtually normal again. 

Ramsay has never wanted to fuck him so much. 

“Thee?” he asks, one hand already wrapped around his rock-hard cock. He moves behind Theon, shuffling between his knees. “Thee, I want.. Can I?” He presses his hips against Theon’s backside, somehow not quite able to articulate the question. 

Theon snorts and turns to look at him over his shoulder. “Again?” Mutely, Ramsay nods, jerking himself hard. Theon shrugs. “Go for it. Just don’t expect me to - ah! - do much to help…” 

Ramsay has pushed himself inside before Theon’s even finished the sentence. “You are so  _ fucking _ incredible, you know that?” He wraps his arms around Theon’s waist and thrusts hard into him, breathing hard through his nose. Penetration might have been easier, but Theon’s just as hot and wet and tight as he’s always been - Ramsay hasn’t broken him - and embarrassingly quickly, Ramsay is spilling himself deep into him for the second time that afternoon, groaning his name into the skin of his back.

Spent - he rolls off to collapse on his back at Theon’s side, wiping his damp hair from his eyes. “Fucking hell, Thee - I love you.”

“I wonder why?” Theon grins down at him from his throne of pillows and flexes his body. “Drowned god, Ram, I still can’t quite believe you did that.”

Ramsay raises his hand to stare at it in wonder. “I’m not sure I believe it either.” He turns his head toward Theon and grins. “We’ll just have to do it again sometime, to make sure.”

“Oh really? You enjoyed it?” Theon leans down to kiss him. 

“Sweetheart, I pounced you like a greenboy with a gold dragon in a whorehouse.” Ramsay kisses him back. “Yes. I fucking enjoyed it.”

“Hmn, good.” Theon slithers off the heap of bedding to lie in Ramsay’s arms properly. “You might be doing it a few more times in the future.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always incredibly appreciated. 
> 
> I'm always up for prompts and requests!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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